


Grade-A Perfectionist

by foxseal



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, House Party, Humor, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, lots of thirst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 06:09:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16011881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxseal/pseuds/foxseal
Summary: Minhyun learns that he falls short of being the 'absolute best at everything' in Seongwoo's eyes. Unfortunately, it may be too late to make up for it.





	Grade-A Perfectionist

**Author's Note:**

> I first read a prompt similar to this somewhere on the interwebz and thought it was perfect for dumb idiots like onghwang. There was no stopping my ~~thirst~~ expansion of this prompt to slip in a few fluffy scenes here and there.
> 
> For the morsels of nielwink that will surely feature in my future fics, you only have [himarisu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/himarisu) to thank for. ♥ ty for putting up with all my screaming.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this fic!

They don’t even have time to make out before Minhyun accidentally shoves both of them past the nearest empty doorway—which happens to be the entrance to a bedroom in Jisung’s shared flat.

“You don’t look’t, but you’re fucking heavy,” groans the stranger whose back is now against the bright orange wall of the room as Minhyun presses him up against it with all his weight. With a haphazardly swung arm, the door is shut closed and the noise of the party is muted, leaving the two alone with only the sound of their own panting and impatient hands wandering up shirts in search of warm surfaces.

He throws the snapback he has on to some corner of the room. As cosy as the crook of the stranger’s neck is, Minhyun’s legs are practically jelly so he lets himself slide all along the stranger’s very solid and _hot_ front to sink to his knees, before realising with a giggle that this is exactly where he wants to be.

“Are you _laughing_?”

“Hah—I’m sorry,” wheezes Minhyun, resting his cheek on what is most likely the stranger’s clothed thigh, nose touching his crotch. “It’s just—everything feels so _funky._ Like, everything’s _turning._ ” Minhyun looks up to see a mat of—blonde? light brown—hair leaning closer to him and suddenly feels dizzy. “I’m never drinking again.”

“You a freshman?”

“Yeah?”

“Hey, same. That’s what everyone’s gonna say, but they’ll do it again. You’ll do it again. Trus’ me,” murmurs the stranger, who sounds far too sober than the situation calls for. But then he lets out a guffaw and Minhyun is relieved—at least he’s not the only one out of his right mind. “Watch it, will ya? That tickles.”

“What?" Minhyun asks innocently ask he slides the stranger’s zipper down slowly, fixing his gaze on a spot to stop himself from falling over. “I’m just trying to strip you.”

He hears a dull thud, like someone’s head hitting the wall. “You’re killing me here.”

“Geeeeez, sorry,” giggles Minhyun again. “Someone’s enthusiastic.”

“Won’t be for much longer if you keep dragging it out.”

In retaliation, Minhyun pulls the man’s boxers down as hard as he can—but it backfires because he loses balance almost immediately and ends up steadying himself with a tight fist around the stranger’s hard dick.

“Shit!”

“Oh—oh my god, _sorry,_ ” Minhyun stammers as he steadies the stranger’s bare hip back against the wall and relaxes his hold around the dick, lest he gets his eye poked out with the appendage in question. He’s genuinely horrified, but can’t seem to stop laughing. He drags his hand down and the man lets out another groan. “You’re pretty big, by the way.”

“ _Please—“_

“Alright, alright. I swear I’ll do it right now.”

Minhyun won’t remember much of it in the morning, but for now he’s dead set on completing his task with the focus of a sober man. He tries to take the guy’s cock as far back as it would go in his throat, only to almost choke on it when said guy moans and bucks his hips unexpectedly. But he doesn’t even have the energy to complain, just sloppily continues sucking as he makes his way up slowly, probably with too much drag on his teeth but not having enough control to do anything about it. After a while, it gets easier to take in the entirety of the man’s cock and it’s not long before Minhyun’s tasting precome as he swipes his tongue over the head. He revels in the way the man moans so _fucking_ loud, like he can’t help himself from losing control, either. When Minhyun starts jerking off whatever he can’t reach, the stranger’s hands find their way to his hair, tugging him up and down like a guide and pulling just _this_ side of harsh to make him grow hard in his pants.

“Shit—you’re so fucking _great._ ” Hearing him gasp out loud makes Minhyun moan at how _wrecked_ the stranger sounds. “Kinda wanna fuck your mouth.”

Minhyun tries to hide his self-satisfied grin by letting his mouth hang open. “Go for it.”

Nothing prepares him for how _gently_ the boy fucks his mouth; there’s a hand cradling the back of his head and another resting on his cheek, and his movements are slow like he’s afraid of hurting Minhyun. If Minhyun was sober, he’d honestly kiss the man right there and then.

“Fuck—I’m going to—“

Minhyun’s slower reflexes means there isn’t time before he feels come down his throat—he ends up trying desperately to swallow it all down, probably making unattractive noises in the process. What he doesn’t manage to lap up drips down his chin, and he pulls away to wipe it off with his sleeve as the stranger sinks down to his knees with a groan.

Briefly, Minhyun thinks he should probably ask for the boy’s name, or at least give his face a proper, closer look—but then he feels the bile rise in his throat and his stomach churn uncomfortably.

He’s never run to the bathroom so quickly in his life.

He must have passed out right after he threw up because Minhyun wakes up mid-afternoon with his head pressed to the edge of the toilet bowl (thankfully flushed), a raging headache and a stomach that’s apparently not yet finished turning itself inside out. And despite having Jisung stroke his back through all his subsequent heaving, he vows to never go anywhere near alcoholic drinks ever again.

 

* * *

 

Minhyun remains steadfast in this resolution of his, always declining a glass or bottle wherever he’s offered—more college parties, graduation celebrations, boys’ nights out and, eventually, the various barbecue parties his office is fond of holding. His coworkers joke that with how uptight he is, he’ll find it hard to meet new people; let alone someone to _date_ (who doesn’t drink a glass or two of wine over a fancy dinner? Or go for the chicken-beer combination on a blind date?). But Minhyun just laughs it off and says the right person will come along regardless of what habits he has. And until then he’ll wait, no matter how long it may take.

Turns out he doesn’t have to wait that long.

Minhyun meets Seongwoo during a round of interviews for the publishing company he works for. Being in a senior position through both talent and tenacity, he's tasked with interviewing the shortlisted candidates for one of their vacant columnist positions. Seongwoo, the third applicant he’s in charge of, piques Minhyun’s interest through their shared alma mater at first—yet he’s quickly drawn in by the manner with which Seongwoo is witty but respectful, confident without the usual arrogance, and flirty in a way that has Minhyun smiling to himself hours afterwards.

(Later, Seongwoo would joke he’d charmed his way into his job, and Minhyun would defend his professionalism by arguing it was only his heart that Seongwoo charmed his way into. Safe to say Seongwoo is no less satisfied by this admission.)

 

 

* * *

 

On their third date, Seongwoo drives him home and parks the car in the basement of Minhyun’s apartment block, but doesn’t tell him to get out.

“We should take it slow,” Seongwoo tells him gently when Minhyun leans in for a goodnight kiss.

“Of course,” he smiles, eyes not leaving Seongwoo’s lips. “I’m just… I just want to say bye.”

Seongwoo’s grin makes it all the harder for Minhyun to resist. “You’re cute, so okay. Proceed.”

But neither puts a stop to it when the 'goodnight kiss' turns a little deeper, a little more heated, a _lot_ more desperate and Seongwoo ends up climbing onto Minhyun’s lap, begging to be touched—and who’s Minhyun to deny Seongwoo of anything when he’s just as desperate to feel Seongwoo on him, with him, all around him?

When they’ve reached their climaxes with each other’s names on their tongues, they end up in the backseat, just barely fitting as they’re pressed up front-to-front on their sides.

“I’m sorry,” he says later, sheepishly. “I kind of couldn’t help myself.” He doesn’t tell Seongwoo that there’s something about him he’s inexplicably drawn to, but hopes the excuse suffices.

It does. “Why would you be sorry for some _groundbreaking_ lay?” Seongwoo asks, stretching like an overgrown cat as the shirt draped messily across his torso falls off the chair. If Minhyun isn’t so spent, he’d reach out and touch the expanse of pale skin again. “You’re silly. I like you. Let’s go for another round."

“You’re impossible,” laughs Minhyun, pulling Seongwoo close to him. He presses his face to the crook of Seongwoo’s neck and inhales the scent of Seongwoo’s cologne, now with hints of sweat and sex to it. He should find it gross, but Minhyun only finds himself wanting to stay there forever. “I mean… I know you wanted to take it slow.”

“That was before I knew how good you were at dicki—“

“Seongwoo, I’m being _serious_ ,” he huffs. “This… it doesn’t make me treasure you any less, you know that, right?”

Minhyun’s never been the type to jump into anything, with the exception of that one stranger in Jisung’s bathroom back in college. But he was young and experimental and most of all, stupidly drunk, the _only_ time he could stomach anything stronger than a can of beer. He’s always believed in taking his time getting to know his partner, but something about Seongwoo’s familiarity—how comfortable he feels around him, how at ease he becomes—makes it seem like Minhyun’s known him for much, much longer than a few months, and this makes Seongwoo irresistible to him.

“Of course I know that.” Seongwoo groans as he presses a kiss to the crown of Minhyun’s head. “What a gentleman, hm? Do you know how amazing you are? Pretty amazing. You’re pretty damn amazing.”

Minhyun grins out of sheer bliss, barely registering Seongwoo’s words as his fingers find the patch of skin just above his hipbone again. He laughs quietly. “I could say the same to you.”

“Then do.”

His grin grows wider. He loves it when Seongwoo gets like this—blatantly fishing for compliments, wanting Minhyun to lavish him with flattery. And Minhyun is all too eager to comply.

“You’re pretty damn amazing,” he whispers between their pressed lips. He hesitates, before adding, “And… and I love you.”

Seongwoo’s hand pauses in its path own to the small of Minhyun’s back, but a second later the touch becomes heavier and Seongwoo nestles further into Minhyun’s hair. “Well, _surprise,_ ” he murmurs, “I love you, too.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Minhyun nervously pulls the ring box from his pocket over elaborately home-cooked dinner in their small, but neat dining room, Seongwoo doesn’t let him continue nor does he try to maintain his composure—he practically launches himself at Minhyun and starts peppering his face with frantic, loving kisses.

“ _Finally_ ,” he groans. “I’ve waited so long for you to pop the question—"

“You’re not even letting me finish my speech—“

“Then hurry up,” Seongwoo says as he cups Minhyun’s jaw, unable to contain his smile that stretches from ear to ear. “I kind of want to kiss you senseless right now. Or throw you onto the bed and fu—“

“Okay, let me continue,” Minhyun says before Seongwoo completely derails his elaborately, eloquently pieced-together speech into an avenue he’d rather not think in the middle of a supposedly heartfelt, romantic moment. “For the last five years, you’ve made me a happier and a better person. I—I know I’m not perfect—“

“I beg to differ.”

Minhyun throws him a glare. “I know I’m _not perfect_ ,” he tries again, this time staring at the wall—he thinks he’ll die of nerves if he tries to look up at Seongwoo. “But I… I am hardworking. And if you’ll let me have the privilege of being with you; if you'll give me the chance to make you happy, to spend each day in your company, to wake up and go to bed by your side—then I promise no one will work harder to love you and care for you than me. Nothing else matters, because my life would be incomplete without you.”

When Minhyun finally musters the courage to look at Seongwoo, he’s biting his lip like he’s trying to suppress a grin or a sob. There are tears falling down his face. Unbidden, Minhyun feels the wet on his cheeks too as he goes down on one knee and lifts the ring in his hand.

“I love you so much, and will do so probably forever. So—please, will you marry me, Ong Seongwoo?”  

Seongwoo wipes his cheeks dry in rapid motions as he barks out a laugh, shaky with emotions. He whimpers. “This wasn’t supposed to make me cry, I was supposed to just haul you off to bed and call it a night.” He looks at the ring in Minhyun’s hand and a fresh round of sobs wrack through him. “ _God_ , I’m marrying a fucking poet, aren’t I?”

Minhyun’s heart leaps in his throat as he laughs through his tears. “Technically a head editor, but—is… is that a yes?”

“For someone so brilliant, you can be awfully slow, you know that?” Seongwoo pulls him up by the hands and cups his face, looking up at him with such adoration Minhyun wants to sink back down to his knees from how weak his legs feel. “There is nothing I’d like to do more. Yes, yes, Hwang Minhyun, I _will_ get hitched with your stupidly pretty ass.”

With a watery noise from the back of his throat Minhyun surges forward to take Seongwoo’s lips in his, trying to convey all the love and appreciation he has, no matter how inadequately his tearful kisses must be, for the man he now gets to call his fiancé.

“As you should,” Minhyun gasps when he finally pulls away, feeling the tension leave his limbs. “I _do_ have quite a fetching ass.”

No more is said about Minhyun’s ass that night—but a lot is done to it, courtesy of his boyfriend-now-turned-fiancé.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Traditions be damned—sharing the same circle of friends means it only makes sense to have a joint bachelor’s party, under the pre-arranged agreement that the sole rule of a bachelor’s party still holds: that there should be _no_ rules.

Minhyun chooses a Michelin-star restaurant to treat their friends at, where they sit around sipping on wine and reminiscing old times in their pressed dress shirts and trousers and freshly shined shoes.

Two hours later, Seongwoo takes the troop to the most famous strip club in town.

“So typical of you,” Minhyun grumbles. It’s instinctive, the way his grip on Seongwoo’s hand tightens as they approach security in front of the club and the bass of the music inside can be heard. Minhyun is a generous man and is generally good with sharing everything else—just not his fiancé.

Seongwoo notices. He’s too clever a man to let something like that slip past his attention.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he grins, leaning closer so his lips just barely brush the shell of Minhyun’s ear. “Kinda felt like reminding myself tonight that I’m one lucky fucker, being hitched with you.”

“Can’t believe you need a _strip_ club to remember that,” huffs Minhyun in reply as Seongwoo cackles, but he can’t help the pleased smirk on his face at the justification, leaning in closer when Seongwoo settles an arm around his waist.

“No need to preen, Hwang Minhyun,” calls Sungwoon out from behind them, before complaining under his breath to the amused laughter from everyone else.

“Let the lovebirds embarrass themselves in peace, Sungwoon-ah,” Jisung chuckles.

“Yeah? We should just ditch them tonight, honestly.”

“Don’t be jealous, hyung,” giggles Daniel, cheeks already rosy from the pre-drinks they grabbed on the way. “Maybe you’ll find someone tonight.”

“I mean, that’s the plan, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t take much convincing for the boys to make a beeline for the bar, and even less to egg on the almost-wed couple to take shot after shot. Or, at least, one half of the almost-wed couple—Minhyun’s stance on sobriety isn’t wavered even by the temptations of flamboyant flair bartenders and their tricks or the colourful drinks, choosing instead to sit back and watch his group of friends and fiancé get progressively less inhibited.

At first they stick to hanging around the big, well-endowed bar in the smaller room of the strip club, but then Sungwoon declares it’s going to be a waste of time _and_ money to be solely in each other's company the entire night, so despite Minhyun’s contentment to watch his friends acting silly he finds himself swept away to the adjoining bigger room where the main stage and small ‘performances’ take place.

“Oh my god, he’s beautiful.”

At Daniel’s sudden confession, Minhyun follows his gaze to the stage, where a performer has just finished his sequence and is waving goodbye, hand still gripping the pole in the middle of the stage. Oddly, unlike the other skimpily-dressed dancers, he has a pair of khaki shorts and a blue flannel shirt on; unbuttoned, of course, revealing a pale but slightly defined torso. The crowd is chanting one name: _Wink Boy! Wink Boy!_

He walks around the stage, picking up the cash thrown hastily at him with a boyish smile and when he approaches them, Daniel tangibly tenses up.

Jaehwan takes one look at Daniel's starstruck face and grins wickedly before catching him in a headlock and waving at the performer. “Hey! He thinks you’re beautiful!”

He winks. “Thanks.”

“Aren’t you going to invite him up?”

Wink Boy's charming smile morphs into a smirk as he looks over at Daniel, gaze turning a little sharper. “I don’t give out invitations. He can come backstage himself if he’s brave enough.” He gives Daniel a once-over, smirking. “Judging by the looks of it, though, I doubt he can stay on his feet for long."

“Oh fuck,” whimpers Daniel, closing his eyes as Wink Boy (what a strange name, Minhyun thinks) walks away and into a curtained room. “That felt like a stab but _damn_ did it feel good.”

“Haha, he’s going to make you _beg._ ”

“He hasn’t done anything and I already feel like begging."

“Oh, gross,” complains Sungwoon. “Jesus—if you’re _this_ gone for him then go up there and get him, you big oaf!”

Grabbing Sungwoon’s wrists to stop his shoving, he asks, “Wait—will you guys be okay?”

Sungwoon looks around with an expression of disbelief. “Unbelievable. Daniel, we’re grown men, we can take care of ourselves. We can’t say the same about this case of blue balls you’re having so _go.”_

“Okay,” Daniel nods, cheeks pink either in excitement, tipsiness, embarrassment, or a combination of all. “Thanks hyung! I’ll see you all later tonight.”

“I doubt that,” mutters Jisung, before they all burst into laughter.

Several of their friends have a big mouth on them, so Minhyun can’t remember who, exactly, thought it was a good idea to blab to half the club about their engagement (it could have been Sungwoon, the eternal troublemaker, but Jaehwan looks far too pleased with himself for it to be considered normal), but soon they’ve got a couple of dancers stalking over to their tables, accompanied by the whoops and cheers of their friends.

Though Minhyun likes to think he’s got his expression under control when a (beautifully groomed, sparingly dressed) man saunters over to Seongwoo and runs a hand down his jaw and neck, he unconsciously lets out a noise of protest loud enough for Seongwoo to glance over and pry himself away from the dancer’s hold.

“Hey, hey babe, is this—d'ya want me to stop?”

The look of concern is obvious even through Seongwoo’s drunkenness, and Minhyun immediately feels bad for the spike of jealousy rising within him. It’s supposed to be a night of freedom, and the very fact that Seongwoo’s confident enough to bring his fiancé to his _bachelor’s party_ should speak volumes of his faith in their relationship—and why shouldn’t he, when they’ve come so far with no hitches? Yet here Minhyun is, casting enough uptight energy to cut even through Seongwoo’s often unbridled nature under the influence of alcohol.

“Yeah—just,” Minhyun takes a deep breath, steels himself and throws Seongwoo what he hopes is a grin foxy enough to dispel the unease. “If you’re getting a show, I want one too.”

Unfortunately, it turns out having a complete stranger giving him a lapdance is a little less exciting and more embarrassing when Minhyun's only had sips of the chilled tap water from the bar, no matter how hot said stranger is. So after what seems like eons of Minhyun not being able to respond with anything more than nervous laughter, the stripper clicks his tongue, a soft smile on his face.

“Too distracted, are we?”

“Uh—yeah, I guess so,” Minhyun mumbles, feeling embarrassment creep up his neck as he stares down at his lap which has been, well. Dormant. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be, heard someone’s holding a bachelor’s party here and saw your ring,” he winks. “Lucky you."

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am,” says Minhyun, relieved that the stripper isn’t being, well, all weird about it, and is actually really nice. “I swear it’s—not you. I’m just… out of it, I guess. Seriously, you’re really hot.”

“I know, honey,” he pats Minhyun’s cheek, laughing as he swings his other leg over Minhyun’s lap and stands up. He looks at Seongwoo with a wicked grin and cocks his head at him. “That's why I’m sure he’s one hell of a catch.”

The dancer leaves with a wink, and Minhyun makes a mental note to tip the man generously before they tap out of the place. His friends have long decided that his ’show’ isn’t even worth their attention, instead clustering around the curved sofa next to him where Seongwoo was dragged to a while ago and effectively blocking his view. Just as Minhyun thinks about breaking through the crowd and finding out for himself what exactly the fuss is all about, Seongwoo stumbles through from the throng of people with another round of cheer from his friends. Half his buttons are undone and his hair is more disheveled than Minhyun would like it to be. He blinks a few times at his surroundings, looking completely lost, before finally spotting Minhyun and grinning so wide Minhyun wonders if his cheeks ache.

“You okay, babe?” Minhyun asks, fighting the inexplicable jealousy that rises within him as he surveys Seongwoo’s blissed-out expression. “Had fun?”

“Oh, yeah, _so_ much fun. Think I said thanks like, twenty times,” sighs Seongwoo as he drapes himself all over Minhyun’s lap. It’s a welcome weight, warm and inviting—so different to having the dancer there. “That was a good lapdance.”

Minhyun inhales sharply through his nose, surveying Seongwoo’s neck and what is exposed of his chest for signs of hickeys. There are none— _thank god_ —but it doesn’t abate the flare of annoyance within him. “Huh. Bet I could do better.”

Seongwoo looks up, a loopy grin on his face. “Of course. It was a _good_ lapdance, but not the _beeest._ _You_ give me the _best_ lapdances—like, that time when you tied me up on our dining table chair and, and told me I couldn’t touch 'til—“

“O-kay, that’s enough, Seongwoo-yah.” Minhyun slaps a hand over Seongwoo’s mouth, voice pitchy.

Seongwoo laughs as he pries Minhyun’s hand away. “You know you’re the b-best—to me. At everything.” Then, with his eyes closed and nose twitching like he’s trying to remember something, he whispers, “Actually, except maybe blowjobs.”

“Blowjobs?” Minhyun’s voice is higher than he’d like as he leans away, and at the same time Seongwoo slaps a hand over his own mouth with eyes crinkling in laughter. He raises his eyebrows. “Wow. Anything you want to complain about concerning my blowjobs, mister? Are they _that_ bad?”

“No! You know they’re good! You’re just not the best—wait, probably shouldn’t tell you this,” Seongwoo mutters, before bursting into giggles that has him falling over Minhyun in a mess of limbs. “I don’t want you to end up hating me! I mean, we’re getting _married_."

Trying not to get distracted by the way Seongwoo is trying to sloppily press kisses down his neck, Minhyun frowns and replies, “That’s exactly why you should tell me—I don’t want us keeping any secrets from each other. _Especially_ if you think it’s something you’d consider hiding from me because I swear to God Seongwoo—”

“Be quiet, you’re so noisy,” whines Seongwoo, seemingly uncaring of the fact that he’s in a strip club and he’s half-shouting just to be heard over the ridiculously loud music. “All I wanted to say was the best blowjob I ever got was the one I got in freshman year.”

Minhyun blinks. “Of highschool?”

“ _No_ , silly Minhyun, in _college_!” he protests. “I remember… it was at Jisung-hyung’s party.”

“Wait, _our_ Jisung?”

“Whuh? Uh, yeah. Pretty sure I was shit-faced drunk, but,” Seongwoo grins stupidly. “I still remember _that_. The blowjob. Funny, huh?”

“Yeah, funny,” Minhyun muses over it, a strange feeling coming over him. “You know, that was the only time I ever got drunk.”

Seongwoo nearly topples out of Minhyun’s lap from how hard he’s laughing. “Wait, wait, wait a second. You were there too? And you actually let yourself get wasted? Hooooly _shit_ , did you, like, do anything stupid?”

“Yeah,” says Minhyun slowly. “I gave a complete stranger a blowjob.”

It takes a while for Seongwoo to catch up, still swaying a little unsteadily in his seat on Minhyun’s thighs, but once he does he starts frowning.

“Wait, what?”

His grip on Seongwoo's hips tighten. “Where did you get it?”

“Do the rooms really matter?“

“ _Yes_.”

“Um.” It must hurt, trying to think past all the sloshy brain functions, but Seongwoo seems to be trying particularly hard. “Definitely not a bathroom.”

“So in a bedroom, right?”

“Riiiight.”

“Did it have neon orange walls?”

“Yeah, oh my god, it actually nearly killed my boner.”

With his heart in his throat, Minhyun holds Seongwoo at an arm’s length, whose eyes have grown both large and heavy-lidded by now.

“Seongwoo. My love,” he says slowly, throat tight. “Did you have blonde hair in college?”

“Yes! Wait how did you kno—“ It’s then that everything falls into place for Seongwoo. He jerks away in surprise, suddenly looking a lot more sober than he has been for the last couple of hours. “Oh, wait. Fuck. _No._ You’re _kidding._ ”

Letting his head drop into his open palms, Minhyun runs hands down his face as he starts laughing. “That was… a terrible haircut and colour on you.”

“Hey I actually like it—but wait. No way. _You_ were that snapback dude?”

“Oh my god,” Minhyun wheezes. “I forgot I used to wear snapbacks all the time.”

“It was so dorky,” grins Seongwoo. “Almost fell in love with the hat all because you gave me the best blowjob of my life."

“You know, I can’t say the same about the experience on my end. I had to go puke right after that.”

“Gross. I have no idea what convinced me to put out to a complete stranger.”

“Maybe it was my devastating good looks.”

“We didn’t even see each other’s faces.”  

Minhyun shakes his head. “You know how that was the only time I got wasted? It’s just. Weird, that if I didn’t get wasted that day, I wouldn’t have met you.”

“No. No, we met at work, that was not meeting. What are we supposed to tell our kids if—if they ask ‘ _h_ _ey dads, how did you guys meet?_ ’”

Minhyun’s heart jumps a little at the mention of children (Seongwoo’s been thinking about that?) but decides there are more pressing matters at hand. “Okay, let me rephrase that. I can’t believe that if I didn’t get wasted that day, I wouldn’t have given you the best blowjob of your life.”

“Yeah, that’s _nuts_. Pun totally intended,” he winks inelegantly. “I expected it from myself, kind of, especially in college. But you, Hwang Minhyun—I can’t believe you’d do that with a complete stranger.”

“I guess even then, when I didn’t know a thing about you, I knew I wanted to do everything with you.”

“Risky, but okay.” Seongwoo hums, curling up and tucking his head under Minhyun’s chin. “Shame, you used a lot more teeth back then.”

“Maybe now I try harder to be _gentle._ ”

“Aw, come on!” Minhyun can hear the grin in Seongwoo’s voice. “You know I like it rough sometimes."

“Just so you know, when _you’re_ completely sober I’m gonna interrogate you for whatever you remember about that night,” whispers Minhyun mischievously. “I’m going to be taking notes.”

Seongwoo groans loudly, making him life. “God, I can’t wait to be married.”

And Minhyun just drags Seongwoo’s face closer to kiss every breath out of him, because he can’t say he feels any different.

“Wanna go home and continue this on our bed?”

“Hmm, not the way bachelor parties are supposed to go, babe.”

“I don’t care,” Minhyun murmurs. “I mean, in your very valid opinion, I do everything best anyway.”

Seongwoo’s answer smile is soft. “Yeah. That, you do, love."

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Minhyun. Minhyun! _Minhyunnie!_ ”

Being shaken awake is not Minhyun’s favourite way to end his sleep, but Seongwoo clearly looks distressed. “What? What is it?”

“Help, Daniel’s gone home with a stripper!”

“Oh,” Minhyun blinks, noting that Seongwoo is already dressed in a sweater and a pair of washed-out jeans. “Was it that Wink Boy—“

“Who else would it be? But anyway, he’s supposed to come to my fittings today!”

“I’ll come with you instead.”

“What? That’s against the rules! Also, I want to keep it a surprise.”

“Okay, well, take Jisung instead maybe, if he’s not hungover. But you’ll be without your best advisor.”

“I know. You _are_ the best at everything, after all.”

 _Yep_ , Minhyun thinks as he pulls a neatly-dressed Seongwoo down and back onto the bed to settle on his lap. He can definitely get used to _this_.

 


End file.
